Shinjuku, Okubo.
This place used to be known as Little Korea. Recently, however, Arabians and Chinese have gradually taken it over, forming a district where one can communicate freely without needing Japanese. Illegal residents also hid among them, posing a threat to Okubo’s public safety. This made it an excellent hiding place.
Bruno had concealed the KGB’s office in Japan here. Under the guise of a Korean restaurant, their living quarters were makeshift rooms in a cellar used for storing kimchi. Here, they established an office for the KGB. The office didn’t cover a large area, yet it t all the conditions necessary for KGB operations.
Incandescent white light illuminated the interior.
Bruno sat in an office chair worth 20,000 Yen, his fingers tapping at the keyboard. A series of code scrolled across the computer screen.
Curtis didn’t understand what this was. Her expertise lay in protecting dignitaries and assassinating enemies with a sniper rifle. She was skilled in marksmanship, possessed so hand-to-hand combat ability, and was adept at lurking behind enemy lines. Her skillset did not include internet hacking techniques. Although the Kremlin’s bodyguard team was initially intended to be an all-rounder unit, the higher-ups always had lofty ideas that often proved less than ideal in practice. Humans have limitations; the kind of perfect agent capable of anything exists only in movies. Real agents have their strengths and weaknesses. Curtis knew her own shortcomings well and never interfered in areas outside her expertise.
She simply stood behind Bruno, watching.
The Drunkard didn’t even look. He just lay in his chair, drinking vodka and eating Korean fried chicken. Loud CRUNCHES echoed through the cellar.
Bruno tapped the Enter key. "Done."
With that, an image suddenly appeared on the computer screen. It showed the exterior of a large shopping mall. From the footage, it was clear the shot was taken from a high vantage point. The streets around the mall were devoid of ordinary people. Individuals dressed as SAT mbers and police officers had set up a cordon, ushering away anyone trying to take pictures. From the mall exit, a man and a woman erged carrying a huge box, its contents hidden from view.
Before Curtis could figure out where this was, the screen suddenly went black.
She couldn’t help but ask, "What’s this all about?"
Bruno shrugged. "I just hacked into the special task force’s drone system and seized control of a surveillance drone. When they couldn’t regain control, they destroyed it. A clever solution, indeed."
Curtis’s brows furrowed slightly. "Since it’s a special task force, is it related to Dio?"
"Unclear. Dio isn’t the only one causing trouble now. Don’t forget, we just received word from the Kremlin that a giant, three-headed dog was spotted on the streets of New York."
Bruno stroked his chin. "Judging by the box’s size, whatever’s inside must be large. It could very well be the corpse of a Low-Level Monster."
At that, Bruno stood up, a confident smile on his face. "Speculating here is futile. Let’s get moving. We must prove our worth, both to the Kremlin and to the syndicates. Only those with value are not abandoned."
As the destroyed drone plumted, Morimoto Chiyoda glanced up, Iwaki Kususuke’s voice in her earpiece.
"That drone was just hijacked. Your idea to use the box beforehand was correct."
Morimoto Chiyoda asked, "Can’t we track the person?"
"His skills are strong." A hint of helplessness tinged Iwaki Kususuke’s voice. Being defeated in one’s own area of expertise was not sothing to be taken lightly.
"Your response was the right one."
Morimoto Chiyoda could only offer him that bit of comfort, watching as Kitanotake and Katerina loaded the box into the vehicle.
Her gaze held a trace of seriousness. Flies do indeed flock to a scent. Was there surveillance around the Tokyo tropolitan Police Departnt, or was there a traitor within? Morimoto Chiyoda knew very well that even if the power of Low-Level Monsters was far from comparable to that of Undying Creatures like Sotoku, they were Monsters nonetheless. Even a harmless Monster, the size of a small rabbit, was worthy of research, much like a gram of lunar soil holds significant scientific value.
As these thoughts flashed through her mind, she did not forget the "little potato" behind her.
Morimoto Chiyoda turned and patted Emily on the head, her voice soft. "It’s hot. Rember to drink plenty of water."
Emily, whose emotions had just cald down, exploded with anger. "Bastard, I’ll kill you!"
She leaped up, intent on delivering a ferocious beating, but Katerina caught her by the waist. Her fists and legs flailed in the air, relentlessly trying to reach the woman in front of her, always falling just short.
Morimoto Chiyoda feigned innocence. "I’m just reminding you to drink more water. I never ntioned anything about you wetting yourself. You don’t have to worry; Ito doesn’t bla you either."
"That urine is dirty is just a common misconception," Ito Oto remarked while watching the box. "On a deserted island, survivors can resort to drinking each other’s urine to live. The human body always contains plenty of it."
"Enough! Don’t talk about that stuff!" Emily shouted, her face flushed with embarrassnt. Being frightened into wetting herself was humiliating enough, but having acquaintances publicly discuss it was like being shad all over again, a public execution on top of the original disgrace. She felt like her mind was about to explode.
"Haha," Morimoto Chiyoda laughed heartily, finding this state of Emily rather cute. She lacked her usual drive when leading work, now resembling a little tiger cub trying desperately to roar and display its regal deanor. To onlookers, she was just incredibly cute.
"Goodbye." Morimoto Chiyoda waved and got into a police car.
In the sky, Okayama Buji and his SAT team were in a helicopter, coordinating with drones to survey the surroundings. On the ground, about a dozen police cars were escorting a large truck, hurrying to the nearest Shinjuku Police Station.
"Katerina, let down!" Emily turned her head and yelled, still puffing with anger.
Katerina loosened her grip. "It’s okay. Most people would react that way in such a situation. You don’t need to be embarrassed."
"Don’t bring up this matter again!" Emily shouted. My luck is terrible today, she thought.
Then she suddenly froze, a pensive expression on her face. The teacup handle had suddenly broken, prompting her to go out and buy a new one. Was the handle breaking just a coincidence? Or had she unwittingly tapped into so precognitive aspect of a Superpower? The broken cup handle was a bad on, but she hadn’t recognized it as such; instead, she’d chosen to go shopping. It wasn’t that Emily was overthinking. It was just that the things she encountered couldn’t be explained by normal science. taphysically speaking, all cultures have sayings about premonitions of misfortune—like the left eye twitches for wealth and the right for disaster, or a broken wooden clog strap signaling impending trouble. Her cup handle broke, and then she encountered a series of unlucky events after leaving the house. Emily couldn’t help but speculate: Could such a warning signify she was awakening a Superpower? Perhaps this was also related to Dio choosing her as a friend. But how could she verify this idea? Should she go out again the next ti a cup handle broke? If it was rely the ability to foresee her own misfortune, that would be utterly useless. If possible, she hoped for an ability like shooting laser beams from her eyes. Wait. Emily paused. Thinking about it this way, was her bad luck today limited to just these things? While walking, could a banana peel suddenly appear on the ground to make her slip? Could a billboard fall from a building, a broken high-voltage wire snap and hit her, or a drunk driver veer right into her? A series of potential accidents flashed through Emily’s mind, making her feel as if every corner of the street held a specific malice towards her.
GULP. She swallowed and looked up. "Katerina, you’d better carry back. It’s really too dangerous to walk on the streets."
"Alright." Katerina looked bewildered but still picked Emily up with her left hand and asked, "Don’t you hate being carried like this?"
"For the sake of safety, I can temporarily put aside my pride." Emily buried her head in Katerina’s neck to prevent others from seeing her face.
"Is that so?" Katerina didn’t understand Emily’s thoughts but enjoyed holding her this way. It was almost like holding an Alaskan Malamute. Very soft, very comfortable. And Emily had a pleasant scent that an Alaskan Malamute wouldn’t possess.
「Shinjuku Police Station.」
After arriving, the Cyclops wasn’t unloaded from the truck. Instead, it was being dissected with urgency right there in the vehicle’s cargo bay. Before their arrival, Morimoto Chiyoda had already directed personnel at the Shinjuku Police Station to implent temporary traffic control, blocking all roads leading to the station. She found this tactic of clearing the surroundings extrely effective—a straightforward approach. Anyone daring to approach at such a ti required no explanation; they would be shot on sight.
The CIA was an exception.
Upon receiving Morimoto Chiyoda’s ssage, CIA Chief Jack had hastened to the scene. He had imagined multiple factions at the scene, all vying for the Cyclops’s corpse. But when he arrived, the scene he’d envisioned was absent. Morimoto Chiyoda was relaxing in the shade, even having found ti to have soone buy her milk tea.
"Eh, has no one else put pressure on you?"
Morimoto Chiyoda drawled, "Chief Jack, people aren’t fools. They naturally know who to approach regarding such important matters."
Jack was stunned for a mont, then quickly realized. "I haven’t even reported to the higher-ups, yet they dared to bypass and report first?" For Jack, this was an intolerable slight; it ant his information was no longer firsthand.
Yuzuki Suzuko spoke, "Chief, I reminded you just now that you should report to the higher-ups. You insisted on getting a handle on the specific situation to show your prudence."
"Quiet, I’m reporting right away." Jack pulled out his phone.
Morimoto Chiyoda shook her head. "Reporting now will only make your superiors think you’re incompetent. It’s better to wait and submit your report along with the dissection results."
"...Alright." Jack could only put away his phone and wait patiently for the news.
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